YANG SHENG
Yang sheng is an ancient term, and specific ‘nourishing life’ texts have been found which date back to the 3rd and 2nd centuries BCE. Some of these texts specifically stress diet, exercise and sexual practices which are considered to enhance the vitality and possibly even lengthen life. But the early chapters of the Neijing (Yellow Emperor’s Inner Classic) suggest that it is in the ability to observe what is appropriate at a particular time and for a particular individual that the real art of nourishing life resides.
The ancient Chinese were good at this kind of observation. The medicine described in the classical texts is essentially a move away from the idea that human lives are at the whim of ancestors, gods and the forces of nature, in need of priests and shamans to intercede with the powers of good and bad fortune on their behalf; at this time in history the idea evolved that human beings are responsible for their own destiny, and that it is up to the individual to make the best of what they have been given by ‘heaven’ or nature (tian 天) at birth. Knowing how to look after our ‘inheritance’ forms the basis of Chinese medicine. The classical texts advise us to observe what is natural and to adapt our behaviour according to the laws of nature; learning to avoid what is harmful and adopt what is beneficial for life. Not to contend, not to struggle, but to follow what is natural and in accordance with one’s true nature; to follow what is naturally so (zi ran 自 然).
So what does the term ‘yang sheng’ really mean? Yang (養), to nourish, includes the most common character for eating food (食), but it has a wider meaning than simple nourishment for the body; it is to nourish, but not only physically, it can be used to describe the way parents take care of their children, and it includes the idea of education, a nourishment of the mind. It is also found in meditation texts such as the Neiye, for nourishing the heart/mind, and in Confucian texts for building character. In both cooking and alchemy it is to gently warm.
Sheng (生) can literally be translated as life, but it is more the process of life coming into being – the way that life is generated, sustained and maintained. The great modern translator of classical Chinese, Roger Ames, suggests that Chinese is a language of verbs and processes, whereas most western languages are languages of nouns and things. And at a time when Greek philosophers were looking at the nature of things, trying to find the building blocks of life, the Chinese were more interested in the way that life proceeds, the way things change, the movement of one phase into another. So yang sheng has this idea of the nourishment and development of the continual generation of life – from one moment to the next.
The early chapters of the Yellow Emperor’s classic advise that we use the pattern of the four seasons as a guide to model our understanding of the world. The four seasons are used as an ever-present example of the inevitability of constant change. And they suggest ways in which we can adapt our behaviour to what is most appropriate. The second chapter of the Yellow Emperor’s Classic (Neijing Suwen chapter 2) is called – ‘How to adapt your qi according to the qi of the four seasons’, and it suggests that we are more active in the spring, relaxed and open in the summer, more on guard in the autumn, breathing well and balancing our qi to counteract the repressive nature of the autumn. In winter, we retreat, turn within, store our energy. Of course, this was written at a time when everything was done according to the light of the sun – but even if we live a sophisticated city lifestyle, there is still less light and warmth and available energy at our disposal in the winter. We need to take more care. In winter we are advised to ‘go to bed early and get up late’ – which can’t be a bad thing.
Hibernation is a natural part of the yearly cycle. And in the same way that the sap within a tree responds to the levels of light and warmth, so warm blooded animals slow down when it is dark and cold. We are not bears – though maybe some of us are more bear-like than others – and we tend to live in centrally heated flats and houses, but the levels of light and cold outside affect us, and we can respond to this change by resting more – going to bed a bit earlier, eating warming foods…
Paying attention to the rhythm of the four seasons is one of the ways that we can ‘follow what is natural’ – because going against what is natural disturbs the qi and wears us out. The phrase ‘tian li’ (天 理) may be translated as the natural pattern of things, and this idea is beautifully illustrated in chapter 3 of Zhuangzi, and the story of Cook Ting.
Cook Ting was cutting up an ox for his master Lord Wenhui. He was so skilled in his job that he is described as looking like a court dancer. Lord Wenhui asked how he became such an expert. Cook Ting replied that he is only interested in the dao. When he first began as a cook, all he could see was the ox; as he progressed he no longer saw the ox; now he doesn’t look at all but uses his spirit to guide his knife. He allows his knife to follow the natural patterns (tian li 天 理) and is guided through the spaces between flesh and bone. Whereas an average cook sharpens his knife once a month, and a good cook may keep one knife sharp for a year, Cook Ting has had his knife for nineteen years and it has never been sharpened. Lord Wenhui declares that his cook has taught him the way to ‘nourish life’ (yang sheng) – he likens Ting’s knife to the vital energy, and understands that following the natural pattern of things is the way to avoid wearing oneself out.
